Snowflakes Upon a Fir Tree

Twelve past three I finished my tea
and left for the forest so I could see
a winters gift was just waiting for me.

I took my ax as I went to set free
a snowflake covered Christmas fir tree.
And as I swung at this mighty big tree
a vision in black pointed at me,
saying son, you better go flee.

So I turned around ignoring his plea,
swinging the ax as he counted to three;
it ended, with the removal of my knee!

With one limb gone we both agreed,
I ignored the sign and did not leave;
for it stated that nothing is free
upon these grounds of the Cherokee.

Snowflakes Upon a Fir Tree by K. Saitta © 2015, A Walk In Verse